


selfish

by collectingnames



Series: My Miracle (fjorclay collection) [11]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caduceus Clay Deserves Nice Things, Caduceus POV, Festivals, M/M, Xhorhas, cheating at carnival games as a gesture of love, dumb tag but it fits, speculative worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25561726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collectingnames/pseuds/collectingnames
Summary: Caduceus gets to say what he wants.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Series: My Miracle (fjorclay collection) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483838
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	selfish

**Author's Note:**

> Set at some nebulous point in the future post-Travelercon. Based on/Inspired by [this](https://auroura101.tumblr.com/post/621394188993511424/caduceus-doesnt-like-being-selfish-and-asking-for) art. And yes, I gave Caduceus a kazoo, he deserves nice things and that includes a kazoo.

“Hm, do you have some means of turning those off?” Essek points up at the strings of lights coming down from the tower tree.

“Oh, no, it’s a constant thing. Sorry, are they hurting your eyes?” Caduceus asks, brushing dirt off his hands as he got up from the garden-bed he’s working on.

“No, it is no problem. I was only curious. Also, they are going to be redundant soon.”

“Redundant?”

“Oh, right, you all missed the last one, you were away. The Feast of the Luxon is coming up, they will be lifting the darkness spell over the city temporarily, only for a day,” Essek starts trying to inspect the lights to see their mechanisms, quickly giving up and going to rub the spots out of his eyes.

“When was the last one anyway?”

“Mm, about six months ago. That was the Dusk Feast, there are two feasts in a year. So that one was the one on the shortest day. This one is the Dawn Feast so everything is going to be much more lively. Plus I imagine it would just be more convenient to be able to turn them off,” Essek’s musings trail off.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Not sure how it would work though. Caleb and Veth might be able to come up with something,” though his train of thought already slowly easing away towards an idea.

\---------------------------------------------------

They’re up early, that was for sure, but they were already traveling mercenaries, sleep isn’t so scheduled as much as it happens when it could. And as early as it is, the city of Rosohna had already been wide awake for a few hours before they ever made it to the festivities. The first of the Dawn Feast celebrations had already begun by the time all seven of them dragged themselves out of the Xhorhaus and towards the festivities. They haven’t taken more than a step out into the street before they nearly got separated by the passing...crowd? Parade? Both were equally likely.

From the looks of it, most of the festivities are in the Gallimaufry but head towards, maybe center in the Firmaments, with the Lucid Bastion itself a glittering beacon in the center of Rosohna. Now that the whole city is bathed in the early morning light, various elements of the Bastion’s architecture come into stark relief now that they’re framed by daylight. The elaborate geometric stained glass designs are so elaborate they might have come from Essek’s spellbook. 

“So where should we go? I don’t know where any of the festivities are supposed to be,” Caduceus gestures vaguely out at the street.

“Maybe Essek’s out here! He probably gets the day off for this or something,” Jester suggests.

“Perhaps, he seems very dedicated to his work though, he is probably in his towers,” Caleb replies, scanning the crowd.

Caduceus turns to Fjord, “I think I’m gonna head up to the Gallimaufry. See what’s going on up there.”

“I’ll tag along,” Fjord shrugs and falls into step next to him.

“Oh, okay, see you two later,” Yasha calls after them.

They follow the crowds into the heart of the festivities. It isn’t that they’ve never seen Xhorhas in daylight but not Rosohna. There are carts of vendors along the streets selling sun-hats and parasols. A handful of them have simple glasses made with dark-tinted lenses but the vendors are charging far more for the glasses than any of the other basic means of protection against the sun.

He notices some sort of game set up in the center of the market square, “What do you think that is?”

“Dunno, looks a little like bobbing for apples?” Fjord tries standing on his tip-toes to peer over the crowd.

The young goblin suddenly stands back up from where their head had been submerged in a bucket of cranberries in water, catching his breath through a shiny-wet key held firmly between their teeth. The duregar in charge of the game takes the key and with a flourish, he vanishes it away before handing the goblin a prize. The handful of young drow that has been standing in a loose approximation of a line rush to take their turn next. Okay, simple enough game, reverse bobbing for apples essentially.

“Do you wanna try?” Caduceus asks, rummaging through his pockets for a hair tie.

“Oh, no, maybe later. Do you?” He gestures towards the line.

“Hm,” he stops looking for the tie, “No, that’s alright. I don’t want to make you wait for me if you’re not interested. Come on, let’s find something else.”

“You can do it if you want to,” Fjord seems a little put-off, well, confused, he’s probably reading the worst into it, “I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Oh okay, uh, hopefully, the wait in line isn’t too long. Be right back,” Well, this isn’t how he’d expected it to go.

In the line of mostly children, he’s fairly certain everyone in the line with him is younger than him, he stands more than head and shoulders over most of the people here with him. Glancing over his shoulder, Fjord is watching from the front of the crowd, the crystal in his holy symbol catching the light of the Rohsona morning. He turns his attention back to the moving line and fishes the hair tie out of his pocket and secures his hair back right as he’s almost to the front of the line.

The duregar in charge of the game points down at the bucket, “Okay, the key’s at the bottom of the bucket. Hands behind your back. You need to stick your head down in the water past the cranberries and grab it with your teeth. If you get the key, you get the prize. Got that big guy?”

“Sounds simple enough, um, should I kneel down?” He nudges the shin-height bucket with his toe to make his point.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that.”

He gets down, “Not a problem.”

“Okay,” the duregar nods, “1, 2, 3!”

Taking a deep breath first he dunks his head in, the cranberries bobbing wildly, and smacking against his face as he breaks the surface tension. Opening his eyes stings but luckily not salty ocean water stinging. The trick, it could be pretty simple sleight of hand or actual magic, means he has no idea where exactly the key is. Squinting through the distortions caused by the water he tries shaking his head especially hard to see if he can disturb the key where it must be somewhere at the bottom of the bucket. He thinks he hears a clink of metal against the wood and lunges forward to where the key _must_ be. And misses, instead getting a mouthful of water. He expects to start coughing and spluttering, but instead, it’s just a little weird. He can still breathe. What? He shakes off the distraction and with his newfound water breathing he takes all the time he needs to snatch up the key between his teeth.

The duregar looks bewildered as he hands him a tiny metal flute with a small, round piece on top, “Here ya go, sir.”

“Thank you,” he takes the flute and rejoins Fjord in the crowd, water still dripping from his soaked hair.

“What next?” Fjord isn’t bothering to hide his shit-eating grin.

“Don’t know. That wouldn’t have had anything to do with you, would it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fjord starts to move on along the street.

He falls into step next to him, “Last I checked, I can’t breathe underwater.”

Fjord just shrugs, “Stranger things have happened. Why don’t you take that prize of yours for a spin?”

He rolls his eyes but hums a note into the flute. Though what comes out is much louder, deeper, and has a buzzing quality to it, like a swarm of insects. It’s loud and definitely a distinct noise, not as disruptive as the bone flute, but potentially a worthy successor. He holds the flute in his mouth and hums a little tune while they walk.

“Enjoying yourself?” Fjord asks over the general clamor of the festivities.

He hums out an affirmative note before putting the flute back in his pocket, “Yup, you? What do you wanna do?”

“Don’t know, not sure what’s here. Maybe-?”

He’s cut off by Veth’s voice piercing through the crowd, “OH HEY! THERE YOU ARE!”

Veth, Jester, Beau, Yasha, and Caleb all approach from the other side of the street. Though much to his surprise, Essek is there, floating along at the back in his mantle and a set of gauzy linen formal robes far more intricate and ceremonial than anything else they’ve ever seen him in. The wide-brimmed, floppy sunhat and dark-lensed glasses are out of place though. He turns a head or two as he passes by. They all come up and rejoin them and as they get closer, Caduceus can make out the little bits and baubles they’ve picked up from the various stalls. Caleb’s spinning a tiny prism between his fingers and his component pouch seems to be holding some of the group’s new finds. 

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Caduceus addresses Essek.

Essek tips his head in greeting, “Hello to you too Mr. Clay. I was not planning on attending the festivities once I finished with my duties for today but your friends asked if I was not busy and well, I was not.”

“Huh, cool, so where are you guys heading next?”

“There are some sorbet vendors. I thought I would maybe stop there before returning to my towers,” Essek replies.

“Aw come on man, you can’t just get some ice cream and go home,” Beau protests, “Stick around for a little bit, let loose a little.”

Essek might be rolling his eyes, or at least mildly annoyed behind the brim of his hat and his glasses, “We will see.”

They’re a large enough crowd that they have some difficulty following as Essek leads them through the streets to the aforementioned vendors. The passersby are moving more for Essek than them but they somehow manage to stick together the entire walk there. He and Fjord sit on the curb while the others eagerly talk about what they should do next, leaning against each other a little as they try their sorbet. It’s a little moment, and by no description are they alone. But something about it makes it feel like they’re sitting in their own little bubble, simply watching the day’s events unfold around them. Caduceus turns a head or two briefly but for the most part, they sit there basking in the noonday sun of Rohsona enjoying themselves.

Fjord leans forward on his knees, “What do you think they’re doing up around the Bastion?”

Caduceus takes one last bite, “Probably not anything we can join in on. It’s probably all important ceremonies to the Luxon.”

Fjord shrugs to get the cloak off his shoulders, trap in less of the afternoon heat, “What do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?” He shoots back.

“I asked first.”

“Uhm, don’t know,” he fidgets with the flute, starting to wonder if it would be appropriate to use it to break the mood.

“You can do what you want,” Fjord presses the point a little more.

“I know,” he starts tapping the flute against his chin while he tries to think.

“What do you want, Caduceus?” Fjord asks point-blank.

It’s a simple enough question but it gives him pause, makes him look directly at him. Fjord’s eyes are unyielding amber, the sun shining down on the water from behind a wisp of clouds. He’s powerful and capable of so much, so much change like the waters he’s so comfortable on and he’s gotten to see some of it and he thanks the Wildmother for that every now and again. His gaze falters and shifts to look just past his eyes and he shifts a little closer. This certainly is not the closest they’ve ever been to each other, hells, they aren’t even touching but it still feels almost suffocating.

“I want _you_ , Fjord. It’s always been you,” he whispers and maybe the ambient din of the crowd will drown him out.

“Oh,” the word is barely there, said in a breath.

He gets back up to his feet, “I need to water the garden. I’ll meet back up with you.”

Fjord springs up to his feet and reaches out, “Caduceus!”

Caduceus tries his best to not notice how that catches the attention of the rest of the Nein and Essek who can’t be more than ten feet away, “Yes?”

“It’s okay. I’m just, surprised, is all. I wasn’t exactly expecting to hear that,” he takes his hand.

“I still need to water the garden,” he lies, still not pulling away or making any other move to get away.

“I thought you took care of that before we left this morning?”

“No,” he deadpans to try and make it more convincing.

“Caduceus?” He shifts the grip on his hand so their fingers are laced together.

“Yes, Fjord?”

Fjord smiles, open-mouthed, most of his smiles are open-mouthed since his tusks started to poke past his lips, “I’m interested.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” he keeps his voice low, taps the flute against the side of his leg.

“So what do you want to do?” Fjord leans in a little, lifting up onto his tiptoes to lessen the height difference between them.

“I’d like to spend the rest of the day with you,” the bundle of nervousness building in his chest eases, warmth and lightness taking its place.

“I’d love to,” Fjord brings his hand up and presses the lightest kiss to his knuckles, “So, what next?”


End file.
